A Pillar of Strength
by BlushinRosie
Summary: After the war Hermione's happily ever after is rudely interrupted and on her intercontinental chase to find the culprit she meets up with the Winchester brothers, only to find there might be more left for her than she ever imagined.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** After the war Hermione's happily ever after is rudely interrupted and on her intercontinental chase to find the culprit she meets up with the Winchester brothers, only to find there might be more left for her than she ever imagined.

**Chapter 1**

A dart thunked into the center the board. "So basically, we know nothing," Dean Winchester shouted over the music and giggling girls.

His brother, Sam looked up from the leather bound notebook and shrugged. He let out a gust of air, "There's nothing in dad's book or any local legends about whatever this thing is."

"And this is definitely our kind of thing?"

Sam leveled a look at his brother, "Do you know of anything human that clubs its victim to death and then only leaves the bones and maybe a limb or two?"

"Well, no…" said Dean.

"Then it's definitely our kind of thing. Besides, it only attacks people who are visitors, never any of the town's people. That's a definite pattern."

Dean frowned and looked away. "Hot damn that is one fine looking woman." said Dean as he watched a young woman walk into the bar. She looked younger than him, maybe in her early twenties. She was about average height, with long chocolate curls and flawless skin. She was dressed in fitted jeans and a tan belted jacket and a pretty, but serviceable shoe. He watched as she lugged a stack of newspapers in with her to a booth. She cursed as the large stack made a loud thunk when she set it down. Dean continued to stare at as she slid into the booth and put her head in her hand and let out a little moan.

"She looks way out of your league," Sam snorted.

Dean whistled, "Well, Well it looks like she might have more in common with you Sammy anyway."

"Dean, I'm not going over there," said Sam.

"That's one classy looking lady, you sure?" and at Sam's nod Dean said, "Suit yourself. And uh, keep researching," as he strode away.

Sam took one last look at the pretty girl and then Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and looked back down to read again.

By the time Dean got over to the booth where the woman was sitting she had already taken out a paper and had ordered a beer. Dean tried to squint at the words on the newpaper, but they were a little blurry from where he was standing. So he slid into the booth.

Hermione was well aware that there was a handsome man walking toward her to chat her up. So when he sat down she took her time looking up from her work.

Dean nearly gulped at the glacial stare the pretty brunette gave him, had she been any less beautiful he might have jumped up then and there and left her alone.

She raised one brow at him and spoke with a clear British accent, "Can I help you with something?"

The accent did him in. "Oh god yes," he said as she gave her a slow grin and looked her up and down.

Hermione couldn't believe this guy. He was certainly forward. Now, normally she would never consider hooking up with a stranger, but she had come in angry this evening, mostly because she was no closer to finding Ron's killer that she had been a year ago. It had been a year since the eve of their wedding night and Ron's murder and she didn't know anything more about it.

This guy was attractive enough. Well that was a lie, he was as handsome as sin and she bet that arrogant panty dropping smirk had gotten to many girls before; it was certainly getting to her. He had beautiful green eyes and a straight nose with a smattering of freckles across it.

Really, there was no harm in just flirting. She desperately needed stress relief and reading cases in papers that held no pertinent information was only making her more stressed. Besides it wasn't like it was going to turn into anything. He was way to good looking to be actually into her. A little fun wouldn't kill her though and maybe chatting up some bloke would be as fun as Lavender insisted it was.

So with that decision she laughed.

Dean thought it might have been the most sincere laugh he'd ever heard at a bar and he smiled in relief. She flashed a wide smile at him, "You're pretty brave. Most guys would have run when I didn't look up right away. I'm Hermione."

"Dean," he said. "So what are you doing in here? This doesn't look like your typical type of bar?" He waved his hand to gesture at the mixed crowd of rowdy locals.

"Just some research for work," she answered lightly. There was something about Dean that was familiar and that made her a little wary. She peered at him beneath her lashes, he was stunning with his saucy green eyes, beautiful jawline, and nice teeth. That was something about being the daughter of two dentists that Hermione couldn't shake, she always looked at teeth. She didn't know exactly what was so familiar about him, but until she could do some research she would just be extra careful. Her carefully honed war instincts were shouting that there was something dangerous about this beautiful stranger, but she thought that was ludicrous since he was clearly muggle and she was a war veteran and she was going to end up in her own bed tonight anyway.

He leaned forward as he smiled at her, "And what exactly is it that you do?"

"Oh, I'm a bit of a freelancer," she smiled again. She had the most beautiful brown eyes rimmed with long thick lashes he had ever seen and Dean wanted to kiss her then and there.

"So you write then?"

"Oh, I'm more of a freelance," she paused, "I guess the most accurate description would be dectective. And you?"

"Really me too," he said as he pulled out his deputy's badge. "Are you working on the murders in this town then?"

"No, I was unaware there were murders happening in this town, I was just passing through and will be gone in a few days as soon as I find the lead to a case I'm working on."

Dean frowned. "Only a few days?" there was something important about that he was sure of it. But then she leaned on her forearms and there was no way she knew she was showing that much skin and Dean could nearly make out…

"Are you listening?"

"Dean shook his head and dragged his eyes back up to hers, "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Hermione tilted her head "I asked about the murders."

"Oh." He paused to gather his thoughts. "We've had three people turn up dead this week or at least we think three. The bodies really aren't in much of a state to confirm anything."

"That sounds terrible, do you have any leads yet?"

"Not a one."

"By the way you look awfully familiar. We haven't met before have we?" said Hermione as she stared into his green eyes curiously.

"I think I'd remember a pretty girl like you." He glanced at her lips and then back up to her warm eyes and his lips curved into a suggestive grin.

A rosy blush stole across her face as she grinned. "I don't sleep with men I don't know."

Dean smirked and his eyes twinkled, "Really? Well maybe we have met before then, sweetheart."

And before either of them could say anything else there was a loud "Ahem."

Hermione cringed, painfully reminded of that cow Umbridge, but turned to look at who had interrupted and was definitely glad she did. Standing there was a man who made her forget all about her association with obnoxious throat clearing and whatever her name was. He was tall, maybe three or four inches past six feet with hazel eyes and hair that Hermione briefly thought would be wonderful to run her fingers through. Obviously she'd had too much to drink, even though her beer was barely touched.

"Dean, we need to get an early start in the morning," the stranger said sharply, but buffered it with a charming smile toward Hermione.

"Sammy, this is Hermione and Hermione this is my partner Sam. Hermione is somewhat of a detective too," Dean gave Sam a narrow eyed look with a forced smile. They reached out to shake hands and as Sam grasped her hand every magical cell in Hermione's body knew there was something different, something dangerous, and maybe even something magical about Sam. His hands were warm though, so very warm and calloused. She wondered if his hands would feel as lovely on the rest of her as they did her hands.

"Nice to meet you Sam."

Sam held a hand up to his forehead and squinted in pain. "It's nice to meet you too." He hissed, "Dean we have to leave now." Dean threw Sam's arm over his shoulder and leaned Sam's larger frame into his side. Hermione could see the concern in his eyes as he carried his partner out the door. He glanced back at Hermione and gave a concerned smile. Hermione waved him off and he left.

Hermione quickly grabbed her things and walked briskly out the back entrance of the bar. She didn't know what either of those boys were but, she was now siding with her initial instincts; there was something dangerous about them.

In the parking lot of the bar, Dean sat Sam down and waited as his brother twisted and turned in his vision.

For Sam as soon as he had touched Hermione he could feel a vision start to overtake him. His vision went funny colored and he struggled to hold it together until he was outside. When he crossed the threshold he surrendered to it. He closed his eyes to lessen the pain.

_Hermione was asleep in a bed. A shadow scuttled across the room toward her and a black figure jumped on her. She screamed._

Sam gasped for breath as he returned to the parking lot of the seedy bar they were at. "Hermione's in danger."

* * *

a/n: thanks for reading! Please review. This is sort of an experiment so I don't have all the details worked out yet, feel free to message me if you want to see something written into the story or have an idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** After the war Hermione's happily ever after is rudely interrupted and on her intercontinental chase to find the culprit she meets up with the Winchester brothers, only to find there might be more left for her than she ever imagined.

**Disclaimer: **It occurred to me that I never put up a disclaimer last chapter. I don't think anyone thought that I owned the original show, but on the off-chance you did I'm telling you now I'm not that brilliant.

**Chapter 2**

Both boys jumped up and started towards the bar. They walked to the table she was at, but it was empty, her and her things were gone. Both boys looked at each other.

"Sam, check the bathroom." Sam and Dean split up and scoured the bar for the small woman, checking every nook and cranny in the seedy bar. They met in the parking lot a few minutes later, next to the impala. It began to rain, small drops first and then large fat drops splattering on the pavement and the boys.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing. People remember seeing her, but not leaving."

Dean ran his hand over the top of his head. His fingers became wet. He breathed out. He had to think. "Sam, what did you actually see?"

"She was in a motel room and whatever this thing is jumped on her. I couldn't see what it was though. It appeared solid, but all I could see was that it was dark-colored and not a humanoid shaped thing at all. Whatever this thing is, we have to get to Hermione quickly."

"Shit Sam. That's not a lot to go on," Dean sighed and put his hands on the hood of the car. He dropped his head. Dean felt as if he should have warned her beforehand that there was something evil in the night even if she would have thought he was crazy. She was just an innocent girl and she was about to get caught up in something she didn't understand.

Suddenly he started, "Wait, did it look like our motel? Or was it another?"

Sam's pursed his lips and looked down. "I think it was another one."

Dean laughed, "Get in the car Sammy. There are only two motels in this town." Dean started the engine, but he was in no mood to listen to the purr of the car. He backed up and speed out of the parking lot.

"Why did I have a vision about her? This case has nothing to do with the demon that killed mom and Jess." Sam asked as he stared out the window at the passing small town. The windshield wipers squeaked across the glass.

Dean shrugged, but kept a firm eye on the road. "Maybe she's got some weird powers like you do, like that other kid a couple of cases ago."

"Wouldn't she have defended herself then?"

"Sam, you didn't see her die, just that she got attacked. Or maybe she doesn't know how to turn 'em on and off either."

"I guess," Sam admitted, "go a little faster though."

Meanwhile, Hermione brushed her teeth and slipped into a flowing white gauzy nightgown that was one of the last remnants of her old life as a witch of Great Britain. She turned off the bathroom light and grabbed her wand from the counter. She glanced one last time at the stack of muggle and magical newspapers and books stacked by her bedside. Her lips tipped down and then she shook her head and picked up her work and put it in her small beaded bag.

Her beaded bag held much more than it should and not in a common way, like having one or two too many hair brushes or papers in it, but in a- this bag literally has everything but, the kitchen sink in it. Although, technically the tent she had in there did have a kitchen sink in it… The bag contained nearly everything she owned or was important to her.

Hermione crawled into bed and slipped her wand and a silver dagger underneath her pillow. She was never wanted to be caught off guard again. She climbed under the covers and laid her head on the pillow. Within seconds she was fast asleep.

Sometime later the door slowly creaked open and a shadow skittered toward the bed. The figure crossed a beam of moonlight, but it hardly illuminated the creature. As it reached the foot of the bed it pounced onto the sleeping figure. Hermione let out a shrill scream as she woke and grabbed the knife and her wand.

"Hermione!" Dean and Sam rushed down the hall and kicked open the door. They dashed into the room guns cocked and ready to shoot. Hermione used the split second the creature was distracted to stab it. It managed to dodge, but she still nicked its body. It scuttled toward the door and the boys several shots at it, but it got away.

Hermione was panting in the bed. Her hands were shaking. She jumped out of the bed. "We have to get out of here. Someone will have heard that." She grabbed the beaded bag and then grabbed both boys' elbows. A pleasant, but not entirely ordinary, jolt ran through each of them. Hermione started, confused by the jolt. She decided she would research it later and grabbed onto both men more firmly.

Sam tilted his head and said, "Well that's never happened before."

Dean sighed, "Sammy, you really need to get out more."

"Boys," Hermione said sharply, "I need you both to trust me for a minute." There was shouting in the hall, so Hermione didn't wait for a response she spun on her heel and took both boys with her with a pop.

For a second there was darkness and pressure from everywhere. It squeezed so hard, that neither Sam nor Dean could take a breath or close their eyes. Their eardrums popped and their eyes squeezed into their heads. Suddenly, with another pop, the pressure was gone and the men stumbled. All three of them were standing in the parking lot, only a few cars down from the impala.

Hermione scanned the parking lot. There was nothing except a handful of cars and the lit Vacancy sign. She sighed with relief, there was no one else out there, which meant she hadn't broken the statute of secrecy yet even if it was nearly non-existent in America.

Sam bent over and gagged, but thankfully didn't throw up. Dean didn't fare much better and was on his knees gasping for air.

Dean raised his gun at her and opened his mouth. Hermione cut him off, "Dean, questions later. Right now we have to get out of here."

Dean was sure he would have answered except he was surprised. The rain was coming down harder now and Dean couldn't help but stare at Hermione. While the rain didn't affect Sam and him very much because they were wearing jeans and jackets, Hermione was drenched. Her hair was soaked and stuck to her face, goose bumps were rising on her skin and dear god her nightgown was see through and sticking to her very lovely form. He could make out the size and shape of her breasts and the fact that her nipples were protruding from the cold was not helping Dean's focus at all. Further down he could see her toned stomach and dainty waist and his eyes, without thought dipped lower still. His green eyes glazed over.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and shot an impatient look at Dean. After spending a year in a tent with two boys, she wasn't so much embarrassed by her revealing state, but more at the intensity of the look Dean was giving her. She had been walked in on and walked in on Harry and Ron more times than she could count and they had never made her feel this exposed; like he could see everything inside and out.

When Sam finally looked up he glanced over at his brother and then in the direction he was staring. Sam's eyes widened. He flushed. Dean was right that was one fine-looking woman. Guilt tore at his stomach, he had forgotten Jessica for a moment. Sam looked down at the pavement immediately after that thought. He reached over and lowered Dean's gun and then slid his jacket off his shoulders. He looked at anything that wasn't Hermione as he helped her into his coat. He cleared his throat again and Dean blinked. "Right. Out of here. The car's this way.

Sam lightly grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the car and Dean motioned for her to sit in the front. Sam sat behind her a gun in his lap.

"No funny business now," said Dean as he backed up and then sped out of the parking lot. The car was silent till they reached their motel. It was like some unspoken rule or perhaps tension was running too high before then. They shuffled her into their room and she sat on the edge of one of the beds still drowning in Sam's coat. For a long minute they were all quiet and stared at one another.

Dean broke the silence first, "What are you and what the hell was that disappearing act?"

"I used apparition to get us out of the room. It's a type of magical transportation that witches and wizards use," Hermione stated using her best lecture voice.

Dean brought his hand back up to rest on his gun. "You're a demon-witch?"

"Of course not! I don't get my powers from drinking anything nor am I bent on destruction. I was born with my powers." Sam thought she looked rather disgusted by the thought of what demon witches did and the scrunched up, grossed out look made her look hopelessly adorable, especially since she looked so tiny in his jacket. Immediately, the guilt welled in his stomach again and worked its way up his throat.

"I've never heard of a good witch. Have you Sam?" Sam shook his head no and continued to think about the mystery surrounding her.

"Have you ever seen a demon disapparate?" Dean looked absolutely horrified by the thought that demons and demon witches could appear and disappear wherever they wanted instantly, regardless of holy water and salt. Hermione could tell what he was thinking and struggled to keep laughter down. As it was, a small grin lit her face.

At the boys reluctant nods Hermione continued, "I don't think true-born magicals are as common in the Americas mostly because of the witch hunts and the fact that most magicals are scared of progress."

Sam could see how that made sense and nodded for her to keep talking.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And of course you've heard about true-born magicals. You've heard of Merlin haven't you? He was one of the last great wizards before the separation."

"Merlin was real? Sammy I so win that bet!" Dean let out a laugh.

Sam huffed and shot a cross look at Dean, "Seriously, that bet was more than ten years ago!"

"Don't matter. That's a twenty for me!"

* * *

A/N I got a little more written so I thought I would post it. Also, before I get a review telling me this I screwed up the timeline a little on purpose this takes place 2-3 years after the war for Hermione and during the second season of Supernatural. Please Read and Review.

Blushin


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary**: After the war Hermione's happily ever after is rudely interrupted and on her intercontinental chase to find the culprit she meets up with the Winchester brothers, only to find there might be more left for her than she ever imagined.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Chapter 3**

Sam pulled out his wallet and tossed the folded bill towards his brother. "Now can we get back to the explanation?" At the fading of Dean's gleeful look, Sam continued, "What separation are you talking about?"

A frown down-turned the corner of Hermione's lips, "In 1692 the Ministry of Magic passed a law that separated the wizarding world from the muggle world called the International Statute of Secrecy. This was a time when the relationship between the two was the tensest due to the fact that many young wizarding children were being killed. They had no control over their magic and displays of magic were grounds for accusation of consorting with the devil or bringing illness and famine. So, witches and wizards removed all traces of our existence from books, the government, and everyday life, hardly interacting with the other world in an attempt to protect ourselves. We are merely humans with a few extra capabilities."

"What's a muggle?" asked Sam.

"Oh! It's a non-magical person," explained Hermione. It had been such a long time since she had to explain that to someone that she had completely forgotten that it was a wizard colloquialism and hadn't thought to include it in her explanation.

"That's a very nice explanation, but how do we know you are telling the truth?" asked Dean with a skeptical glare at her.

"Dean! It makes sense and there's lots of lore about witches that doesn't refer to demon-witches," said Sam.

"For all we know she's killed loads of people and we're just going to believe the first thing that comes out of her mouth?"

Hermione flinched at the mention of killing people. It had been a few years since the war, but she could remember the countless people she had killed in the name of self-defense and freedom. Though her motives had been pure, she felt as though she could hardly defend herself on that charge, because she had killed loads of people. She could still see the broken bodies lying on Hogwarts' grounds. And to her the constant warring and battling felt more like senseless murdering than anything else.

Dean nearly threw his hands up. Instead he walked toward the mini fridge and pulled out a beer. He popped the cap off and continued to watch her.

Sam looked pointedly at Hermione, "Does that look like a murderer to you? For Christ sakes, she's a slight woman in her nightgown, I highly doubt she's clubbing people to death Dean."

"She's still a witch."

Hermione spoke up at this moment, "I'm still human. You can do all the traditional tests salt rings, holy water, and whatever other non-lethal measures you can come up with."

"Sam, go get the kit and Hermione, if that's even your real name, stay here." Dean sneered at her.

Hermione bristled and straightened up from her slouched position. "It is my real name and I haven't lied about anything."

Dean was about to respond back with another inflammatory remark, but before he could speak Sam walked through the door with the emergency testing kit. He set it on the table and opened the small case with carried salt, a small flask of holy water, a silver dagger, and a few other necessities.

"Oh, of course you're hunters, that makes this both easier and harder," said Hermione a look of understanding lighting her features as she finally put together all of the pieces.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Dean with suspicion clouding his voice.

"Just that you believe me about magic and don't think I'm crazy."

"That remains to be seen lady," Dean shot back.

Sam slapped the back of his head. "That's enough."

He twisted the cap off the flask. Without being asked Hermione held her hand out and Sam poured a few drops of holy water onto her skin. Dean and Sam looked on closely for any sign of burning or melting. The water beaded on her hand and rolled down between her first and second finger without leaving a mark. Then Sam took a small iron cross from the kit and pressed that gently into her flesh. Again nothing happened, not even a mark or a hiss.

Next they stood her up in the middle of the room and drew a circle of salt around her. She stepped out of it and then once they could see it wasn't forced she apparated back into the circle and then out of the circle again.

Hermione raised one brow at Dean and he made a guttural noise in the back of his throat. He snatched the silvery knife from the case and had the girl's palm in his hand in a heartbeat, but at Hermione's terrified look he slowed his motions down. There was something vulnerable in her eyes that softened his anger. When she wasn't looking like a confident unmovable wall, Dean could see that she was just a young woman who was for some reason oddly terrified of a silver knife, not in the- my doom is coming! way. He would know if it was that was the case as he'd seen it a dozen times before. This was more like she was stuck in a memory.

Hermione had seen the silver knife in the case and had thought herself capable of handling it, but when Dean had forcibly grabbed her hand, suddenly she wasn't in a motel room in America with two attractive hunters, instead she was in Malfoy Manor with crazy Bellatrix Lestrange holding her down between bouts of the Cruciatus curse and carving that _word_ into her arm. She became absolutely still and stared with large unseeing eyes as the knife descended toward her palm. The knife made a quick shallow slash that hardly hurt, but Hermione's breath was coming out in pants.

The cut bled, but didn't do anything else and Dean felt like such an ass as he looked at Hermione again. She was clearly trying to fight down a panic attack. Dean looked over at Sam and they shared an uneasy mystified look. Neither knew what to do for the pretty brunette to snap her out of it. Sam shrugged his shoulders and stepped towards her to wrap her in a hug. Dean feeling awkward, but like he needed to make amends rested a hand on her shoulder. With the connection of all three that spark jolted through the three of them again.

The brothers exchanged a surprised glance, but it was short lived as Hermione snapped back to the present at that moment. She started when she realized she was in the room with hunters that were willingly touching her, who moments ago were convinced she was evil. She took a deep breath and attempted to gather up the pieces of her shattered calm. She gently pushed Sam away and looked up over her shoulder at Dean. They both physically removed themselves from her. She sat back down on the single bed.

Sam sat on the bed across from the one she was on and leaned forward to hold her limp hands in his. "Hey, it's alright," he said as he looked softly into her eyes. "What was that?"

"I-" she looked down unable to look him in the eyes as she spoke. She took a deep breath. "I was a soldier in the magical blood wars that ended three years ago in Europe. One day the snatchers found us and brought us to an enemy strong hold. I was tortured with magic and they carved a message into my arm with a silver knife. I guess I'm still not over it yet."

Sam looked over at Dean and saw him flinch at her story. Hermione looked across the room at a blank expanse of wall as Sam, with one hand, pushed the sleeve of her nightgown and his jacket up to reveal the inside of her arm. In rough lopsided lettering was the word _Mudblood. _The wound itself, though a few years old, was still red and angry looking.

Both men were horrified at ruined skin of her arm. Dean began to pace; he wanted to hunt those bastards down. Sam held himself back from crushing her small frame to his. Instead, he asked as softly as he could manage, "Did you ever get this looked at by a doctor?"

She stared resolutely at the wall as she spoke, "After the war ended I sought help from a healer, but the blade they used was cursed and this was the best she could heal it."

Sam dropped the sleeve in shock and let it fall back down to cover her scar. "You mean it was worse than this?"

Hermione finally looked over at him and gave a sharp nod. She gently tugged her hands out of Sam's and wrapped them around herself.

"Now that you know I'm not an evil witch, who are you anyways?"

"Dean and Sam Winchester," said Dean.

"That's why I recognize you! The witch at the embassy warned me about you and a few other hunters. Said you wouldn't care whether I was a nice witch or a war heroine and they wouldn't save my ass if I got into trouble. Their words not mine," she finished at their uncomfortable looks.

"Additionally, how did you know I was in danger?"

Dean stopped pacing. He didn't know whether to be annoyed or impressed that she didn't miss a thing. He settled on being attracted to her accent.

Sam shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He would later swear she threw him off balance earlier on purpose so that he would spill his secret.

"Well we've been hunting this thing in town… and I sort of had a vision about you," he said with the last part coming out rushed.

"First, what you're hunting is a magical creature called a Quintaped though Merlin only knows how it managed to get all the way across the ocean. Second, you had a vision?"

"Yes, a vision. I know it sounds crazy, but I see people who are connected to me deaths before they happen." He looked earnestly at her as he attempted to sound completely sane and unscared of the possibility that he could become an evil bastard or an instrument of destruction like the yellow-eyed demon had hinted at.

"I don't think you are crazy. I have met a few legitimate seers in the wizarding world and it explains why when I shook your hand earlier I could tell there was something magical about you."

Sam tilted his head. "Does that mean I'm magical like you?"

"Well… it could but, I doubt it as you would have received an invitation to study at one of the schools either in America or Europe." Hermione said as she shivered still damp from her stint in the rain.

Hermione tugged her wand out of her other sleeve and looked at both boys. "I'm just going to cast a drying charm so I'll be warmer and not completely exposed. Okay?"

"I wish she wouldn't," murmured Dean just loud enough for Sam to hear. Sam shot him a disapproving frown, but couldn't help but agree.

Hermione made a little swish of her wand at her clothes and instantly they were dried and opaque once more. Dean tried to keep the pout off his face and Sam had to resist frowning as she handed him back his coat.

* * *

**A/n** Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I had wanted to update mid week, but I dropped my laptop and broke my hard drive. Luckily, I was able to recover most of my data. Anyway please review and also I put a poll up to see who you would rather see Hermione end up. I'm leaning toward both, but let me know what you think.

Blushin


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary:** After the war Hermione's happily ever after is rudely interrupted and on her intercontinental chase to find the culprit she meets up with the Winchester brothers, only to find there might be more left for her than she ever imagined.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except a bunch of college loans.

**Chapter 4:**

"Anyway, I doubt you're a wizard, but that leaves several other options."

Sam swallowed. "Are any of those options evil?"

Hermione stared intensely at Sam. "I realize you're a hunter, but evil? None of the options are evil; you have a gift not a curse though I highly doubt it feels that way right now. The only things that are inherently evil are full demons and unless you have been hiding a pretty big secret your entire life I sincerely doubt you are a demon."

"How would you know how I feel?" Sam lashed out.

Hermione slumped her shoulders and stared at the wall behind Sam. "Neither of my parents are magical, nor is anyone else in my family. I was very young, maybe three or four when it started to become obvious that something was different about me. Books that my parents took away at bedtime were in my hand as soon as they turned around. My nanny could never find me, because I pretended to be invisible in front of her and it worked, she never could see me even when I stood in front of her."

She let out a little sigh, "My parents brought me to several psychiatrists and took me into no less than ten churches. Although, I knew my parents loved me they didn't understand what was wrong with me and often treated me like china; that is that they avoided too much physical and emotional contact.

It got around town that I was different and children were mean to my face, while their parents whispered that I was an abomination. I was a little kid and I had never hurt anyone, but I started to believe them too, so I retreated into my books and let everyone talk about me. I started to believe as a primary school child there was something evil about me. I started to let it sink in that, because I could do things that other people couldn't it meant I was possessed or worse that I, just by myself, was inherently evil. Later when I found out that there was a whole community of people just like me I was so relieved. It took a long time for me to realize that my magic wasn't a curse, but that I could use it to save people."

Dean shifted as Hermione finished her story, before he could say anything though Sam cut him off.

"We've killed plenty of monsters that were evil that weren't demons in the past," said Sam as he looked down at the floor.

Hermione looked directly at Sam as she spoke, "I'm sure you have and I'm not denying that there are creatures and people out there who are evil, but I know just as many good creatures as I do evil ones and many have aided me throughout the years. It will always be the choices you make that determine whether you are evil or not."

"But, I kill things for a living." He glanced up and then immediately back down at the floor.

Hermione took one of his hands into hers and leaned forward. "You kill things to save other people Sam, there is no evil or shame in that."

Dean caught Hermione's eye and gave her a small smile of approval. She quirked her lips even as a faint blush colored her cheeks.

Reality came crashing down though as Sam pulled her hand away and stood up to pace. In a sneer oddly reminiscent of Draco Malfoy he asked, "How would you know what that feels like?"

Hermione frowned at the look on his face, it looked wrong; like it didn't belong on him at all. She thought the tender looks he had given her earlier when she was frightened were much more natural on his face than this angry, defensive sneer. "I told you I fought in a war. I helped take down one of the worst megalomaniacs in wizarding history. Do you think I lived, because I waited for other people to save me? No soldier survives a war without bloody hands, Sam." By the end Hermione was standing too, looking angrily up at him. Dean looked ready to jump between them if he needed.

Sam let the angry look wash off his face. He realized he was in the wrong. "I'm sorry, that was wrong of me to speak like that."

Hermione nodded "I'm sorry to have shouted back."

Dean butted in before Sam could spout out some more emotional apologies, "Okay, we're all sorry here. Now can we stop having a chick flick moment?"

Hermione let out a bright peal of laughter, "Of course."

Dean shook his head to stop his staring. Obviously the reason he could not stop gawking at Hermione was because he had drank too much this evening and it was clearly still affecting his judgment. She was not his type; she was too brainy and definitely not the kind of girl you slept with once and then left. Dear god he was acting like such a sap and it needed to stop.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hermione, what are those other options?"

"Well, to be honest I haven't looked them up in over twelve years, so I would have to get back to you on that," Hermione said with a sheepish grin.

"If you haven't used the information in twelve years are the other options are fairly uncommon?" asked Sam as a worried frown tugged at his lips again.

Hermione shrugged. "No, not necessarily. I just haven't had much reason to venture out in the muggle world lately. What I'm curious about though is you said the people in your visions are connected to you. What did you mean by that?"

Dean and Sam shared a glance before Sam sighed. "The people I normally see are about to die and are in some way related to whatever this power is that I have."

Hermione leaned back on her hands and tilted her head. "What do you mean by that?"

Dean shifted where he stood and spoke up, "When we were boys a demon came into Sammy's nursery and our mother caught sight of it. It pinned her to the ceiling and set the house on fire. Every person Sammy has seen has been connected to a person where the exact same thing has happened to them."

"Well, that's never happened to me or anyone I know of." Hermione face turned dark and her voice strained, "I am hunting a demon, but I doubt it's the same one. The pattern is completely different."

"You aren't by any chance adopted?" Sam asked.

"Nope. I looked into it when I found out I was a witch. My guess is that either your powers are expanding or we are connected in some other way." Hermione let out a little yawn at the end.

Dean looked over at the clock. "Damn, we better let the lady get some sleep it's nearing four."

"Would you mind if I stole your couch for the evening?" Hermione asked.

Both boys looked at her with a scrunched up confused face. Sam spoke slowly, "We aren't letting you take a crappy motel couch, you're taking one of our beds."

"We may not be much else, but we are gentlemen," Dean piped in.

"That's really sweet of you, but you're forgetting that I'm a witch." With that Hermione stood and made her way to the couch. She drew her vinewood wand and tapped the tip of it on the armrest. In an impressive display the couch morphed into a full sized bed complete with a canopy. She pressed a hand into the mattress to test the firmness and then with a twirl and flick of her wand she softened the mattress. Next she conjured sheets, blankets, and a pillow. Then she cast a standard house charm that made the bed, taught to her by Mrs. Weasley.

She nodded at her work and then turned around to gob-smacked expressions on both boys faces. She let out a full laugh, their looks reminded Hermione of the first time she had been able to show her parents the magic she had learned at school.

Dean gave her a slow crooked grin, which Hermione thought really shouldn't have looked as attractive as it was. "Well never mind about being a gentleman I might have to slip into your bed with you."

Sam let out a grin, "I think her bed could fit all three of us." Something wild and primal shot through down Hermione's spine to settle warmly in her stomach at Sam's statement. She inwardly frowned she had never felt that before and was confused at what it met.

"I don't know Sammy, your feet might hang off the bed," said Dean.

Hermione laughed and put the weird squirmy feeling out of her mind. "If you would like me to, I can make your beds softer and maybe clean the bedding with a scourgify."

Dean pouted, "Your bed sounds better."

Hermione looked over at Sam and they both rolled their eyes and let out a small smile. She walked over to the two motel beds and twirled her wand a few times over each bed. After the second spell the boys eyes widened as they saw dirt completely disappear from the grungy bedding. Both boys successfully masked their surprise before Hermione turned around.

"That should do it," she said.

"Thanks," chorused the boys.

Both Sam and Dean began to get ready for bed. Hermione was hardly to her bed before both boys carelessly tossed their shirts off. Hermione had turned around at the noise and could not help, but look. She chastised herself for it when she caught herself giving both men a once over. She forced her legs to continue to climb into bed and lay down.

Sam was kind enough to grab a set of pajama pants and head to the attached bathroom. Hermione noted that he had excellent back muscles in addition to his abs. She stared at the canopy of her bed, but now she was curious about the other brother. And once she was curious, she knew it was a lost cause. Ever so slowly she looked over towards the bed closest to the door.

Dear god staying with these boys was going to kill her. She now understood the expression "killer body." There, in just his boxer-briefs stood Dean, and like his brother he had a beautiful physique. Hermione snapped her eyes away and tried to fight the blush that had developed on her face since she had seen Sam shirtless.

Hermione turned onto her side away from the distracting sights. She let out an inaudible sigh. She had no idea why she was so affected by either one of these boys, let alone both. It wasn't like she hadn't seen toned bodies before or even that she hadn't stayed with two boys alone before. She nearly snorted; perhaps the tenting with Harry and Ron didn't count. All of them were half-starved and exhausted. None of them were a sight for sore eyes.

She had never felt this strongly attracted before. She had been about to marry Ron, but truthfully they had never gotten that far in their physical relationship; they had done almost everything else, but something had never sparked or felt right for her. She thought it was just that she wanted a traditional white wedding, but maybe that had never been the case. Another yawn escaped; the long day and late night was beginning to catch up to her.

She thought it odd that what she was never able to have with Ron she suddenly had for two men she just met. Perhaps it was her and she was experiencing the hormones Lavender Brown always talked about in school. Her last thought before she fell asleep was to remember to ask about the jolt that ran through them when all three of them touched.

Dean lay on top of his bed with his hands underneath his head. Normally he would be more wary having a strange women in his motel room, but there was something about Hermione that made him want to trust her, despite the fact that she was a witch and that he didn't truly know anything about her, except for a few horrifying stories from her past. He didn't think that it was just because she was attractive that he wanted to trust her, because usually that made him more wary. Normally the more beautiful something was the more deadly and dangerous it was. He just didn't know what it was yet, but

whatever it was about Hermione that made his instincts want to trust her he would go with it for now, because his instincts had rarely failed him in the past.

A moment after Dean had decided to trust Hermione, Sam walked out of the bathroom. Dean turned to his brother with a smug smirk on his face. "You've been in the bathroom far longer than it takes to change into a pair of pajamas Sammy. Perhaps you were thinking about a certain witch while you were there."

"Dean!" Sam fought down the flush that was trying to conquer his neck, ears, and cheeks simultaneously.

"Oh relax Sammy. She's been asleep for the last five minutes."

"You're one to speak, you're parading around in your underwear for her," Sam barked back.

"I don't know what you're talking about; I always wear just underwear to bed. Besides, she looked so it was completely worth it," Dean said as he smiled and rolled onto his back again.

Sam plopped himself onto his bed and sighed. "Do you trust her?"

"For now."

* * *

**A/N **Thank you all so much for reading. Special thanks to those who favorited, followed, and reviewed. Let me know what you think about this chapter. Was it too much, too soon? or do you think this is an acceptable pace.

Blushin


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